Hold Me Tight
by Darling-Corinna
Summary: Edited ch3! Gift for Lony. Orihime, come into my embrace, where even pawns can become queens. My charming poison spreads after the first embrace. I'm here to collect the heart you promised me. Stop me if you can, my dear. I'll kiss your tears away, love.
1. First Embrace

To Lonewingwriter: You're the bomb, chica! I hope you can enjoy this trainwreck of a writing piece. Honestly, I have a lot to learn about AiHime.

This is what I was trying to write when I wrote "You Can Be My Hero". XD Gah, I'm crazy! Tried to make this more light-hearted. Yes, honestly, I do have a small grudge against Nnoitra because he's a chauvinist scum-sucker.

Hope you like this, and as of yesterday I still don't own Bleach. Damn!

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"Get out of the way, woman," Szayel sneered at her crouched form.

"Yeah, bitch! Move it or lose it!" Nnoitra's chalkboard-scraping voice caused Orihime's eye to twitch. She splayed her hands out, in an attempt to pick up the little pieces of food faster.

"Oooh," Tousen droned, adding to the line of men in the hallway. Behind him was Wonderweiss, who was pressing his face into the black man's back.

"Woman, honestly," the pink-haired Espada dared to whine in an exasperated tone. She scooped faster, holding the bowl in a shaking hand. The orangette bit her lip to keep from uttering a frightened cry. "I have to get back to my lab!"

"Is that so, Szayelapporo?" A deep voice from directly above Orihime caused her to freeze. Her face contorted to a deer-in-the-headlights expression before she looked up. Even without visual recognition, she knew exactly who the man towering over her was. Her hands were shaking, causing her to drop the bowl of shredded coconut again. "You _have_ to?"

A dangerous smile played on Aizen's lips as he looked straight into the pair of shocked amber eyes. He had both hands in his pockets, which was a rather relaxed pose if Orihime had ever seen one. The single strand of brown hair wiggled between his ghostly brown eyes as he tilted his head.

"Take the long way, then. Orihime-san is going to take a while with this mess," he uttered delicately, watching the shorter man like a hawk. "Unless, you want to help her yourself? Many hands make light work, Octava-kun." By now, Tousen and Wonderweiss had wisely retreated in the opposite direction. Szayel struck a hurt pose, staring at the middle of his master's chest before turning quickly and hustling away.

"I hope you don't expect the same cowardice from me, Aizen-sama," Nnoitra raised a thin, black brow before cocking his head to the side. A wide, Cheshire smile split his face in two, revealing two rows of deadly teeth. His eye sparkled as he softly sucked up to the ex-shinigami.

Aizen returned the pleasant grin, "Of course not. I expect even more spinelessness from you, Nnoitra-kun. How about, you leave… or suffer?" In a flash, he was standing right next to the tall, dark man, looking up at him with the same apathetic smile.

Nnoitra's smile slowly withered into a slight scowl, and his eye no longer twinkled with the false admiration he had shown before. Instead, he remained silent at the man's request, offering a cold stare.

"Are you gonna punish me like you punish this bitch? She's a damn who-" Aizen's overwhelming reiatsu forced Nnoitra to choke on his words, falling against the wall. The eyepatch smeared against the cold surface, and the twisted sneer deepened. The lanky man was less than pleased, and wormed around to wipe a lock of greasy black hair from his disgruntled face.

"Right, Aizen-sama," he grunted, wiggling away from the remaining people in the hallway. His retreating form brought up a feeling of deep gratitude inside the teen, and she turned pink.

"A-a-a," his name failed to grace her lips, and she scrunched her eyes in irritation. Should she thank him? He was the evil mastermind behind everything here… but he had helped her out of a puny situation. "Ai-"

"It was not an act of charity, Orihime-san," the man cut her off, removing a hand from his pocket. She blinked, trying to piece things together in her mind. "God has to maintain the harmony in Hell once in a while."

That same hand reached down to grip her elbow and pull her up quickly. The lonely bowl, which had been spilled nearly thrice in the span of five minutes, sat tipped over on its side. The shreds of sweet white coconut were splashed around a certain spot on the smooth grey floor. Orihime turned to attempt to pick it up, but Aizen stopped her by gently gripping her other wrist with his long-fingered hand. She almost flinched at the contact, and his mere presence forced her to look him in the eyes.

"Leave it to a Fraccion," he ordered, but didn't release her.

"Yes, A-Aizen-sama," she cursed herself for tripping over his name yet again. He unclamped his hands, leaving cold spots on her arm and wrist. Without so much as a glance, he spun and disappeared into thin air. Air surged back into her lungs as the heavy reiatsu diminished along with its owner. Pants echoed in the now empty hallway, and Orihime wobbled down the hallway on weak legs. She managed to get herself into her own hallway, oblivious to the brown eye that was still watching her.

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Orihime wrapped the thin blanket around her shoulders tighter as she sat up. Pieces of orange hair obscured her vision, and her steel eyes blinked slowly. She had been sleeping dreamlessly; quite an uneventful night indeed… not that it was a surprise in a place like Hueco Mundo. The woman lazily looked around the bleak room, a small part of her hoping something had changed about the dull interior. Unimpressed and slightly disappointed, she shivered and lay back down on the stiff couch.

A slightly less stiff pillow was under her head, and she flipped around to bury her face into the side of the cushion. The fake moonlight was pouring in, causing her to cover her eyes with one blanket-covered fist. Shutting her eyes tighter wasn't helping, so she left them open to stare at the white pillow. Orihime was left without the solace of slumber. The first thing that crossed her mind was food. She was hungry, even hungrier than she normally was. But she was left to wait for her breakfast to be brought by her heartless babysitter.

That would be hours from now, though. Until then, she could only fill the hole in her stomach with homesick thoughts of her and Tatsuki's culinary adventures. Her eyelids hooded the tops of her eyes, and she sighed into the fabric, letting it cling even closer to her nearly shivering form.

She was quaking almost as much as before. When that terrifying man had, for once, done something nice for her… it had given her this undeniable shudder. Her heart felt like it was going to beat its way out of her chest. The fear flowing through her veins started to curdle as she remembered his terrifying demeanor.

Orihime felt a slight wave of confusion and nausea pass over her. For anyone else, she would thank them for saving her. For anyone else,

_but him._

How could she possibly thank him when he had practically _ordered _her to not let it get to her head? Had he even meant it? He would have done the same for anyone else in Hueco Mundo. Aizen would have protected them.

At that phrase, she stopped. Her brain slowly geared down, and her eyes shut completely. Protected? She was the only one in Hueco Mundo that needed to be protected. She was weak. She was the enemy. She was a _prisoner_, for God's sake.

She twitched her nose as she came to the conclusion of his strange behavior. Orihime wrapped the blanket even tighter than before, effectively shutting off both the cold air and most of her comfortable breathing.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a feeling of strong warmth embraced her back, keeping everything from the back of her head to her heels very warm. She opened her eyes and wiggled quickly from side to side, unraveling her thin blanket.

On top of her blanket was another, much thicker one. It was very warm, and as she held it to her face, she noticed the faint smell of candles. The orangette wrapped it around herself vivaciously before shuffling onto her side. With this pose, her eyes fell to the yellow crack across from her. Her door was open.

Someone had given her this blanket. They were polite, yes, but certainly didn't want anyone (including herself) to know. She ran an escaped hand through her hair, getting it out of her face as she sat up. The blanket folded crisply around where Orihime ended and the couch began. Her small, soft feet touched the cold floor, and she almost winced from the temperature drop. The woman stood, flinging the thick layer around her body in a desperate manner before padding over to the door. It was barely cracked open, a single beam of light shining in from the hall. Her hand pushed against the door, but she stopped.

Was this on purpose? Had they wanted her to escape into the hall? But she had nowhere to go. She had nowhere to run to and hide. And she had every reason to stay rather than die and kill all of her friends with her.

With a frown, she closed the door with a heavy, sad click. Her toe pressed against something, and she bent down (which was rather difficult, considering she had a thick piece of cloth around her) and picked it off. Following closer examination, she found it was a coconut flake.

That's right. From earlier that day, when she had foolishly spilled that entire bowl in the crowded walkway. The flake must have clung to her dress or her hands. Quickly looking down into the blanket, she found another flake of coconut sticking to the fluffy fibers.

A quick turn and blink of her grey eyes stopped her heart.

He was there.

He was. _There._

In her room.

Right _there._

Orihime gasped, shocked at seeing his reclined form. His feet dangled off the end of the couch, with hands folded behind his head. A small shriek formed in the back of her throat, but before her mouth got the message to open, he was on her.

He pressed a long, slender finger against her soft, sweet lips. A smirked danced across his thin mouth, and his brown eyes seemed to dazzle in the moonlight.

Sweat started to form on her forehead again, and on her palms. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, reaching to get away.

"Shhh," Aizen's voice was barely audible above the beating of her caged heart. "Shhhh."

The breaths out of her nose were starting to condense on the tip of his finger. As he towered over her, she squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could and imagined him gone. Her breathing slowed, but when she opened her eyes, Orihime found he had leaned down to look her in the eye. She turned bright red in embarrassment; he had managed to corner her like a cat does a mouse.

Without warning, he wrapped his large arms around her, pulling her face into his clavicle. She let out a small gasp from being freed from his digit prison, and opened her mouth.

But, the words wouldn't come. She though for seconds after seconds about what she could possibly say about this awkward and horrifying situation, but her lips hung silently.

"Silence," he insisted, holding her still. The moonlight peeked around Aizen's tendril, and she looked up. He had tilted his chin to rest on top of her head, and she felt her shoulders bend inward. She was tired, still hungry, and now scared to death. His deep, sultry voice hummed, and with his throat pressed up against her cheek, it felt comforting.

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Orihime's eyes snapped open. She was lying on her white couch, face pressed into the pillow at an oddly comfortable angle. Her fingernails, however, were buried in her upper arms. She retracted and looked over the red crescent-moons on her skin. Her arms were kept crossed, however, because she was cold.

The fluffy blanket, if there ever was one, was gone. The frantic woman stood quickly to look over at the closed door. The floor was clean. She peeled away the blanket; no coconut shreds.

"Wha…" her word died off before she found her breath again. Orihime flopped down on the couch, picking up the pillow to hold in her chilly arms.

With this movement, she saw a small piece of paper. It wasn't very pronounced; in fact, the white color made it almost impossible to notice against the fabric of the sofa. She tentatively swiped it up, holding it in both hands to look at. The single crease that folded it in half was crisp and exact, almost machine-like. It was blank on both sides.

She knew if she opened it she would find something bad.

But deep in her mind, she couldn't push down the cheery thought that it might be an "IOU" from the tooth faerie. Or… would it be coconut faerie? Maybe the cleaning faerie had come to collect her debt from over the years.

Sadly, her guess was correct, and when she opened it, her eyes widened and her lips parted.

'_I will collect what is mine.'_

Some _pervert_ had left her a note? The smart part of her brain, hidden under the majority of the grey mass, knew better, however. It decided to speak up and let her know that she knew who it would be from.

That was so stupid, though. It was just a dream; nothing really happened in real life. She was the only one that knew about her dreams, after all. HE couldn't have possibly left this note because HE wasn't actually there last night. That warmth he had given her for those brief moments, the way he had held her in only the light of the moon, was all part of her overactive imagination.

The comfort she had felt, standing there with his arms around her, was all fiction.

Now she just had to convince herself all of what she was thinking was the truth.

The soft knock on the thick door helped her brain escape from its own torture chamber. Without her consent, not that it was needed, it popped open and a black-covered head appeared.

"Woman, breakfast," Ulquiorra said, his green eyes only shining because of the fake sun's light. The tray he held with both hands had an envelope on it, instead of the usual plate of food.

"Ulquiorra-san," Orihime muttered, arching her eyebrows in confusion. She had tried eating paper before; it wasn't very tasty without a good helping of bean paste. "What is that for?"

"Aizen-sama requests you read it immediately," the Cuatro responded, putting his hands in his pockets as the orange-haired woman picked up the paper delicately. That word struck a chord in her… he _requests, _not_ orders?_ She slid her finger under the white fold. It sprung open to a full sheet of paper.

It was completely blank except for the single sentence in the middle. It was written in the most beautiful handwriting she thought she would ever see, and Orihime bit her lip in anguish.

"You are to eat breakfast with me in my chamber," she read it aloud to her captor, who blinked without much emotion. Of all the things he could have done – did he have to be this obvious? Maybe this was his way of playing with her even more; maybe he liked to play with his food before he tore it to pieces and gulped it down.

"Hurry up then, woman," his black lip protruded over the grey lip in an impatient grimace. "Aizen-sama doesn't want to spend his eternity waiting for trash." That sentence was doing wonders on her nerves, and she managed to hold in the sweat forming at her hairline. She stood, still not as tall as Ulquiorra, and followed his sleek stride out into the hallway.

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When they arrived to the set of ridiculously large doors that were stretching for the heavens, Ulquiorra rapped his monochromatic knuckles on the door.

"You may enter," Aizen's cool voice sounded from the other side. The bat obeyed, tilting his head into a slight bow as he swung open the door.

Brown eyes looked up from the setting on the kotatsu, and little creases appeared under them as he looked over the teen. She shivered for two reasons; one being the thought of sitting under the kotatsu would finally heat her frozen bones, and the other the feeling he was undressing her with his eyes.

But he wasn't. He wasn't the romantic, or even lustful, sort of person. It was all part of his plan, she repeated to herself as her only chance of escape looked back with green eyes and disappeared from the room.

"Please, have a seat… Orihime," the drop of the respectful suffix made her heart skip a beat. The way he had said her name made her flinch, and she noticed he was gesturing to a spot directly next to him. The orangette had to reject him the pleasure somehow, and at the same time extend her lifespan. She chose to fold her legs under the table 180 degrees across from him. His gaze didn't waver; instead, he picked up the apparently heavy tea kettle with his left hand and grabbed a small cup with his right. The trickle of tea coming out of the spout steamed a bit before settling in the pretty cup. This, he handed to her gently. Hesitating for only a moment, the woman gripped it in her thin fingers and set it in front of herself. Aizen poured himself a cup as well, and took a soft sip. His eyes went from the bottom of the cup at his lips to her face, and she held back a flush.

He was no longer being scary, she noted diffidently, but quite awkward. Where was the dialogue? He most likely wanted to get information-

"Orihime," the second time he said her name didn't shock her as greatly as the first. Aizen continued, "good morning."

"G-Good morning," she responded briskly, drinking a bit of her own tea. "Aizen-sama." The hot liquid raced down her throat and warmed her from the inside out.

"If it makes you more comfortable, you don't have to address me as such," the curl between his eyes swayed as he tilted his head coyly. "I think _Sousuke-sama_ rolls off the tongue better."

Was that an order? She had no idea, so she shyly shook her head, which was still spinning from the whole ordeal.

"Really, I prefer Aizen-sama," she said quietly, shifting her weight to the other folded leg. Something inside her whispered, _'You prefer him over his hellhounds, you mean.'_ She felt like slapping a palm against her face, and resisted the urge by folding her hands on her lap. He waved a hand in a nonchalant manner, offering a gentle smirk as he reached for the silver platter.

"Whatever suits you," Aizen pulled the top off of the plate, revealing the food hidden underneath. Orihime's eyes were the size of saucers as she looked at the array of crackers, spreads, cheeses, fruits, and godknows whatever was squeezed onto the plate.

"Do you… normally eat this for breakfast?" The question slipped out of her mouth before she could screw it shut. He raised an eyebrow, mouth slightly parted in preparation for the slice of Havarti poised in front of it. The sight of him brought up the image of baby birds getting a fat worm from the momma bird, and Orihime bit her lip to shove the smile back down her throat.

The baby bird removed the white cheese from his soft lips (had she noticed those before?) before letting the smallest of smiles grace them.

"I don't normally eat breakfast," he pointed out in a deep tone. The wedge vanished into his waiting mouth.

Oh. Damn, that was a stupid question. She had chosen to take a leap of chance that he wanted conversation, and she started it with _that?_ She remembered how little Matsumoto and Hitsugaya ate when they were staying at her house. The teen couldn't hide her pink cheeks as she reached for a piece of food as well. Orihime watched the smooth lines of his chin and neck move up and down with each chew, and his Adam's apple cycle around as he swallowed. Before she could look away, his chocolate orbs opened and met her heather ones. A slick, pink tip darted out of his mouth to lick his fingertips, and he raised a sleek eyebrow in amusement.

"Are you enjoying the view?" Aizen joked, and snatched up a slice of plum to bite into. He downed it with a sip of tea and a few crackers. The flustered woman couldn't reply, as the words in her mind had been wiped clean with the rest of it.

"No need to crawl back into your shell," he said lightly, pulling the smaller, still covered plate closer to its larger counterpart. "It's only a breakfast between comrades."

"Comrades?" When had she picked up this habit of repeating the last word he said? She was slowly becoming his soft-spoken echo.

"Yes, Orihime. Synonyms include: friends, buddies, pals, chums," his deep voice was wedging itself in her still-empty mind. "_Mates."_ The playful look in his eyes was ripping out her heart and using a cheese grater on it. His charisma was starting to smother her; she felt a strong need to be as close to him as possible and listen to that voice for hours.

But her need to reject him proved stronger yet again.

"I am but a subordinate in your wicked plot, _Aizen-sama,_" her response was an attempt to stab a hot poker into his undeniable charm. The evil vortex known as Aizen Sousuke was slowly sucking her in, and she was swimming desperately to get away. He unveiled the smaller plate, which was full of aromatic cheesecakes.

"You are correct, Orihime," he confirmed this, but the twinge in her stomach was unquestionable. Maybe being someone's slave wasn't at the top of her to-do list for life. Maybe, deep down, she wanted to be more to him than a mat to wipe his devious feet on.

"But for now," Aizen picked up a slice and held it up to her mouth. Before she could question his action, he whispered, "Have a bite, my dear." She licked her dry lips nervously, perching her mouth in front of the cake.

"Yes, Aizen-sama."

The flavor exploded into her mouth, causing her eyes to close. She took another huge bite out of it, and she could tell, even with closed eyes, that he was smiling sadistically. He was controlling her just another way; using her only to toss her away.

"Please don't eat the whole thing," he said, pulling it away to shove the rest into his own mouth. He spoke around the bits of cool cheesecake, "I like it too."

His cheeks were puffed out like a squirrel, and he quickly chewed and swallowed his large bite. The brown eyes she had feared for so long twinkled with delight.

Orihime laughed loudly. The expression on his face; the elated kid in a candy store, the baby bird with the biggest chunk of worm was too much. She laughed and laughed, making her voice echo around the room. She held her sides as she fell forward onto the table. Her cheek pressed against the wood, and still she didn't stop. A hand snaked its way up to cover her mouth and tiny tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

"My, my," he said, leaning forward on his table-nested elbows to look at his hysterical guest. "I didn't know I could be so amusing, Orihime."

She quieted at this, raising her head just a tad to look at him. The woman had laughed in his face; not what she had planned to do when she woke up this morning. She had openly mocked her terrifying abductor.

Smooth move, Orihime.

"I… I am so sorry, Aizen-sama," she said, bowing her flushed face. "I shouldn't have laughed. The sugar just ran to my head and my crazy-senses started tingling and-"

Orihime was sitting in his lap, with her arms resting on either side of his legs. When had-

"Do not fret," his intensely low voice sprung from the warm chest pressed against her back. "I will let it go, this time."

His arms looped under hers and he placed his large palms on her knees.

"Aizen-sama?" Her voice squeaked, and she attempted a speedy escape. Once on her feet, he snatched her sleeve and tugged her down. Desperate to get away from his overpowering charm, she tore free of his surprisingly delicate hold and stepped back. Her calf smashed into the kotatsu, and she jerked forward to prevent falling in the food. The woman wobbled face-first towards the evil ex-shinigami, eyes wide with surprise as she rolled.

When she stopped tumbling, she looked up into Aizen's neck. She had fallen back into his lap, pushing them both on the ground. His hands hovered a few inches away from her back, not daring to touch the dizzy female.

"O-o-oh no! Ah," she was on all fours now, sweating profusely and stuttering in an extremely nervous manner. "I should just go back to my room now, Aizen-sama. I'm only causing trouble." But a firm grip on her upper arm kept her bent over him. The man sat up on his elbow, holding her firmly.

"I haven't permitted you to leave, Orihime," his cold tone stuck her in her place. Aizen released her arm, only to seize the back of her neck. At once, she understood his intentions. Why he had appeared in that dream (had it even been a dream from the start?), why he invited her to breakfast, and why he was acting so awkwardly warm to her.

"Aizen-sama," Orihime said, still rigid with her refreshed sense of fear. "Please stop trying to seduce me."

"You are too arrogant for a prisoner," he pushed the smaller woman off of him, returning to a sitting position. Tumbling to his side, Orihime grunted as her arm smacked into the kotatsu. "I am not _trying to seduce you_."

No, her predictions had been wrong? Was that really a dream, then? Was she the one trying to seduce him? She was in for it now; he would snap her neck as soon as she had served her purpose.

"I'm _succeeding in seducing you_."

He snatched her shoulder and pulled her to him. His lips planted a heavy kiss below her ear, and she gulped and flailed away from him.

"It's only after I show affection that the pawn runs away?" Aizen was extremely satisfied, and it showed through his playful aura.

"Aizen-sama, that's exactly what I am," Orihime argued, still backing away and crab-walking around the table. "Just a pawn."

"But a pawn can become a queen if they get to the other side of the board safely," the brown-haired man countered, following the rattled girl around the table. It sounded like a threat; something that made Orihime more alarmed than before.

"You're delirious! You're pulling a nasty joke!" She cried. Her back bumped against the wall next to the table, and she cringed as he got closer. Every movement resembled a hungry lion approaching an injured gazelle. She could already imagine his fangs tearing out her throat.

"Now, Orihime, do I seem like the type of person to joke around when there is business to be done?"

She shook her head, burying it in utter terror as he placed his knees on either side of her ankles. The woman looked up from her knees into his smoldering gaze.

"What do you want from me?" The whisper fell from her lips and he offered her a slow, sultry blink.

"You promised me your heart," he said simply, also in a low voice. He remained where he was, just looking at her, and she felt herself flush. She had in fact promised him the thing going wild in her chest right now; it was something that couldn't be denied or taken back. What the girl didn't know, however, was how he would use that vow in this situation. The only thing left to do was sift for loopholes.

"Everyone in Hueco Mundo has given you their everything," she said, turning away from his softening expression.

"But none are as entertaining or," his fingers pulled a piece of her orange hair up to his lips to kiss. "Quite as lovely, Orihime."

Her body shuddered at the gentle contact, and her own thin fingers rose to touch just above his eyebrow. Releasing the tress, Aizen cupped her hand in his own to graze his lips over their white knuckles. The pads of her fingers tapped on his forehead before surging back into his silky hair. She was so afraid; afraid of his power, even his charm. Orihime never knew what to do when she was near him.

Now, she wouldn't know what to do without him within arm's reach.

His thumbs traced over the front of her shoulder, down the sides of her breasts. He kissed her shoulder and planted one after the other as he went up her bust. The final kiss was on her forehead, between her eyebrows. Her grey eyes were hooded and fogged with lust and confusion. Orihime looked at him from behind her eyelashes. The unwavering serenity on his face would normally unnerve her, but as she laid her head on his chest, she felt the comfort she remembered from the night before.

"Why did you come to my room last night?" The question was inevitable, and she was desperate for an answer.

"I wanted to confirm my speculations," the voice coming from the same chest that held his black heart was warming her face. Her arms, tight around his torso, were gripping the white fabric on his back dearly. She knew what he was referring to. Before he would move his piece on the chess board, he had to make sure it was willing to be manipulated. Aizen had to be certain the pawn would fall for the king.

His strong arms were encasing her body, holding her against him so intensely she was certain she would be fused there. She was finally warm, and she tried to draw him as close to her body as she could. It was okay, just this once, to admit she wasn't afraid.

"My dear," Aizen dared to use a pet name. He pulled away, causing Orihime's whole body to feel quite cold.

"Yes, Aizen-sama?" She felt like she was floating. All of these emotions that had been bothering her before had been chased away by his tender embrace. The edges of her mind had turned soft, and she was now seeing everything through rose-tinted lenses. The god opened his mouth, his eyes melting into the gentlest look she could imagine. He leaned down, and their noses almost touched.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Aizen's head turned menacingly to look at the cursed barrier.

"Enter."

Ulquiorra did as he obeyed, and passed through the threshold into the chamber.

"Aizen-sama, it's been an hour. Szayel requires your presence in the lab as soon as possible and," he eyed the orange-haired woman, who by now was staring at him with an odd expression. "The woman needs to be returned to her room by eleven."

"I see, thank you Ulquiorra," Aizen nodded, gesturing toward the minion in an attempt to herd Orihime over to the door. She moved without any hint of the comfort she had felt before. It was all part of their game; it had to be a secret. Something rang inside her, warning her she was swimming in dangerous waters.

Soon enough, she was trailing her captor down the dreary hallway toward her prison. The delicate piece of paper crumpled in her hand was unfolded quietly with quick glances as Orihime read the beautiful sentence.

'_We will have breakfast tomorrow as well, my dear.'_

How long could they play this game before a pawn had to be sacrificed? She was starting to doubt her ability to make it all the way across the board. Her nakama had to save her before she got too sucked into his allure.

But these negative thoughts barely crossed her mind as she held the note up to hide her smile.

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[[Edit: I've gone back and fixed those little glitches. Thank you for all your kind reviews! Please, leave a review with your thoughts. Fave this if you loved it. Thank you for reading.

This was supposed to be a oneshot, but I promised people that I would write a second chapter, which will be posted within the next 24 hours.]]


	2. First Kiss

_AN: Thankyouthankyouthankyou everyone who reviewed and gave their feedback. This is for you! Especially SnakeyLobve; you spoil me, dear. Honestly, you make me very happy. ;3; I hope you, personally, enjoy this._

_Warning: Please, PLEASE, PLEEEEEASE pay attention to this, if nothing else: I am still listing this story as Completed because technically IT IS COMPLETED. These extra chapters (omake?) are just to thank you guys for reviewing! I only add chapters because you guys ask for it. Thanks guys! It's because of you that all the non-reviewers (coughloserscough) get to enjoy this._

_I own nothing. SHIT! At least in my mind, this story is canon. :D Eeee~_

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"I'm surprised that you came again today," Aizen said, once again filling her cup. Orihime smiled knowingly, and her audacious comment was left hanging in the air between them. They were seated in a Western room that morning, with a smaller café-style table and two stools. On the other side of the room were a large beanbag and a side table.

"No, you knew I would accept your invitation, Aizen-sama."

His lips shimmered into a small smile. The girl offered a matching grin before sipping her sweetened tea. There was a white plate between them with slices of apples and cherries filling one half, and croutons filling the other. Of course, they each had small servings of salad. The orangette grabbed a few of the tiny seasoned cubes and dropped them in her tea, gently stirring. With brown eyes trained on her as she gulped down the tea-and-crouton mixture, Aizen leaned forward slightly to get a better look.

"Honestly, does that taste good?" He raised an eyebrow at her culinary remix. She looked down at the mushy mixture in her cup.

"I think so," her sentence was short, and a quick glance upward revealed she didn't want to say much more about it. But Aizen was having fun with his newest game; he couldn't let her rest for too long.

"Let me try some," although there was no bonus 'please', his delicate tone cracked her shell. Her lips were still quirked in a small beam. Soundlessly, she dangled her half-empty cup towards him. He curved his palm to the bottom of the delicate cup and raised it to his lips. The lumpy substance filled his mouth and he swallowed before returning her cup.

"It tastes," he paused for a few heavy seconds. "Very revolting. I apologize, but I find it difficult to lie to you. That really isn't palatable."

She managed to ingest his sweet words with that grain of salt. It wasn't as if she hadn't heard that before. Actually, Orihime was certain Matsumoto was the only other person she had ever met that enjoyed the same types of food as she did. 'Difficult to lie', ne? Sure, okay.

She may have taken a liking toward him, but she wouldn't let her guard down around such an intelligent and serpentine man.

"I hardly expected you to like it, Aizen-sama," she stated, drinking the rest of the mush. "That would take a miracle."

"Still so formal, Orihime? I told you I would prefer something more relaxed," he said, running a hand through his hair before waiting for her response. She could have sworn she had seen the ghost of a pout run across his face.

"You never repeat yourself; does it really bother you that much?" Orihime was munching on a slice of fruit, with her other hand folded under her chin. She was feeling daring that morning and, though not quite sure why, was enjoying it.

"It doesn't bother me," Aizen lied, finishing his tea. The girl almost hummed with delight when he tossed her a boyish expression. They sat in silence for a few dazzling moments, and she relaxed her expression enough to close her eyes and press her forehead against her hands.

"Orihime."

It was the only warning before he gripped both of her wrists and brought their faces to a point almost touching. She kept her composure though; trying not to please him with a reaction. A tiny tug of fear hung from her heart, and that dark feeling of needing to hide hit her over the head.

"Why are you doing this?"

Shouldn't that be her question? What was this man talking about? He had to be off his rocker to think she was doing anything. Naturally, she wanted to clear up this speed-bump.

"Doing what?"

"Why are you making me like you more and more whenever I see you?"

At this, her lips hardened into a straight light. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head at this, and she leaned back, away from him, to examine his face.

"Ummm," she had no answer to such a direct, cliché question. How was she supposed to respond? "I think you have food poisoning."

He continued staring at her with his blank expression. Aizen's hands unclamped themselves, and he held one up to cover his mouth. The man hunched over, gripping his stomach and his lips. He began to shake.

"Oh no, please don't throw up," Orihime pleaded, standing to flit to his side. "It's that tea with croutons, I bet! Oh I'm so sorry, Aizen-sama. It's all my fault-"

His snort cut her off, and he raised his slightly pink face to reveal he wasn't sick to his stomach. He was laughing.

_Laughing._

Orihime knew that Aizen and laughing didn't fit in the same sentence. She scooted back a meter, and he followed her with his eyes. His surprisingly quiet and deep chuckle bounced around the room and rattled her heart. She felt her face heat up as he stood over her. The short outburst stopped soon after, but his eyes were bright with interest.

"I know why you are so thought-provoking now," he stated, framing her face with his hands. She froze, almost expecting him to start tearing her hair out. Her fear had grown now, multiplying at an insane rate. Her legs were starting to twitch in the anticipation of running away; not that it would do her any good.

Her mind exploded when he kissed her. His soft lips traced over hers with the gentle touch of sakura petals. A shockwave of heat bellowed through her down into her toes and to the tips of her hair.

This… this is what kissing was. The unbelievable warmth radiating from him was drawing her close enough to be smothered by his gentle musk. He smelled like candles, and she felt her knees turn to jelly as he tilted his face to twist their lips together in the sleekest of ways. One of his hands moved down to wrap around her waist. She fell into the arm there and as he pulled away, their eyes locked.

"Oh," Orihime said breathlessly. She panted, trying to get air back into her lungs. They were so close to each other, and she could feel his heart beating from where her hands were on his chest.

"You… are such a fascinating woman," he said, and she felt his heart speed up. She was on fire looking into his amazing eyes. His irises seemed to dip into infinity. He pressed their foreheads together, crossing the paths of their breaths. A rush of energy shot through her entire body, and she felt herself straighten to the full height of five feet and two inches.

That amazing feeling that he was giving her, she couldn't help but become addicted to. She had imagined kissing Ichigo so many times, and thought it would be stunning; thought he would love her forever. But no amount of creativity could have let her experience that tremor of pleasure.

She pecked him, nearly giving herself a heart attack at the same time. The tiny splash of excitement lifted her from the floor. She was going mad with expectation. A smirk dashed on his face, Aizen lifted one of her hands from her chest to his lips. He planted a butterfly kiss on her palm before flipping it over and putting one on her wrist. A catlike smile spread on Orihime's face and her eyes drooped closed.

It was followed by another and another, from her forearm and the inside of her elbow. His other hand was craftily placed on her turtleneck, undoing the top of her dress. The pale flesh of her shoulders and neck appeared, and he nibbled on the soft area between her collarbone and neck.

Her eyes were tightly shut, and she bit her lower lip when he wrapped a hand around her throat. Slight fear matched her level of desire, but dissipated when he ran a thumb across her chin and slid the hand back to cradle her head. His long fingers weaved into her hair as he kissed the side of her pulsing neck.

Out of nowhere, he bit down hard. For a second, her eyes shot open and she cried out in pain. The warmth she was feeling everywhere began to tingle around the injury. He pulled away, looking at her with a matching lustful expression. There was a tiny smear of blood on his lower lip, and he licked it away before cleaning the rest from the shallow wound. He hummed, vibrating against her in the fieriest of manners. She was panting again, taking quick breaths in and out and trying to not faint.

His arms, now fully around her waist and hands resting just above her tailbone, were crushing her against him. Her own elbows were jabbing into her stomach, and she moved them to lock around his neck.

Aizen pulled away again, a small strand of drool connecting his upper lip to her jaw. She was dizzy, and tried to blink away her clouded vision.

"It's amazing what reactions I can get from you. And here I thought you would be a simple pawn," his musings almost didn't make sense in her jumbled mind. All she knew was that she wanted to get as close to him as possible.

But he removed his grip from her waist and reached behind him to pull away her hands. Cold enveloped her body as he drew away from her. The skin that had once been conflagrated now froze with his absence.

"Playtime for today is over, Orihime," he had to say it to get it into her head. She raised a hand, reaching for him as he turned and walked back toward the table. "I will call Ulquiorra to come get you. We can meet tomorrow again if you wish."

Her mouth was hanging open, surrounded by dry lips. She had to get close to him.

She had to do anything to be near him. That feeling… was a burden on her now. If she didn't listen to her desires, they would eat her alive in this barren place.

Before he turned to face her, she ran up to him and wrapped her arms tightly around his torso. Her face was shoved into his back, and she gripped the front of his cloak with her thin fingers.

"No, Aizen-sama, please," Orihime's words were dripping with desperation. All this time, stuck in Hueco Mundo, now poured out of her in the form of hot tears that were collecting on the fabric on his back. Aizen said nothing, but stood rigid against her quivering form.

"You are foolishly wasting your tears over me," he said, removing her hands from around him, which covered her face in agony.

Her nakama didn't want her.

Her love didn't want her.

Now, even her king, her god, her master didn't want her.

Was she doomed to play the naïve sidekick for the rest of her life? Her role as a shadowed character was cemented for eternity.

But he turned and plucked her hands from her red face. Hair stuck to the wet streaks on her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She jerked her face down to avoid his direct attention. His charisma was undeniable, and she felt his charm slowly killing her by with its passionate, crushing hold on her heart.

"I can't allow you to cry," he said, kissing her cheek. "You are so ugly when you cry." She hiccupped, and he covered her mouth with his own. He paused only for the shortest of moments to say, "I can't have an ugly pawn."

"Ai… Aizen-sama," her eyes opened, her watery grey irises shimmering with unshed despair. He was being so tender; it almost hurt when she realized he was just deepening the details of his evil plan.

"Ssh," he said, pressing his nose to hers. "Sousuke-sama is here. Ssh now."

This kiss was so different from the first one. She could barely feel his lips on hers, but she felt the same pressure in her chest. His hands danced down to her elbows, guiding them up to wrap once more around his firm neck. They spun and twirled down her back, over her backside, to hold her thighs next to his. He slid onto the plush beanbag and her knees plopped on either side of his hips. When Aizen's lips started to move over hers, she placed both hands on his strong chest, effectively perched over him.

A soft poke at her lips caused her to open her mouth and her eyes, and his tongue slid into her open trap like a deadly snake. He opened his eyes to meet her confused look, and growled as he licked the inside of her teeth. Uncertain what to do, she moved her tongue to rub against his clumsily. He helped her by wrapping his around her inexperienced muscle.

His hands found their way to her lower back, rubbing circles on her spine.

She needed to get even closer; needed to see, touch, taste, hear, and smell even more of this wonderful being. He was twisting and warping her heart in so violent a way that it was bending her mind with it.

His kisses were too amazing; the skill he was using was starting to astonish her. Aizen's lips were melded over hers in a kiss hotter than fire.

"Sousuke-sama," her mouth escaped in time to speak before he kissed her nose.

"Orihime." Although his response was short, his whisper blew across her collarbone.

"I'm not a pawn anymore," her defiant words fell from her lips. "I don't want to be a pawn anymore."

She was certain this would kill the mood. She knew he would push her away, even laugh at her exploit.

"Is that so?" He raised a beautiful eyebrow, and Orihime cringed in embarrassment, "I'll think about it."

Her heart was beating so quickly, she thought it would burst. His lips met her neck, tenderly caressing the spot he had sunk his teeth into. It was still sensitive, and she whimpered at the hint of pain. He licked it slowly, covering the wound with his saliva. The air cooled it, sending a shudder through the woman.

"You're too entertaining now, Orihime," he said, moving to a sitting position. "I can't stop myself from wanting to see you."

She was still straddling his waist, pressing herself as close to him as possible. He tilted her back using his hands on her back, and craned down to nip at her collarbone. She sat, arched toward him, with her messy hair twisting around wildly. He moved to her clavicle, sucking on it slowly.

"Make me stop, _Orihime,_" he said, grazing his smooth teeth against the thin layer of skin there.

"I can't, Sousuke-sama."

"Make me. I know you can. I need to stop."

"Please, no," she said, gripping the hair on the back of his head. "You don't have to stop."

"If I don't, this will become more than a game," his warning kept her on her toes. But at that single moment, that bright, shining revelation, something became very clear to her.

"Isn't that what you wanted, Sousuke-sama? Weren't you getting bored with your games?"

He paused, his face pressed against the curve of her neck. One of Aizen's hands was on the back of her thigh, and the other between her shoulder blades. His form was frozen, contemplating her incisive words. Suddenly, he leaned back into the soft fabric of the beanbag chair. His hands rested on her knees, and she looked down at him.

Looking up at her, with the light shining from behind her mussed hair, he had the smallest feeling that she was almost right. Her lips were shiny and pink, and faint lovemarks were beginning to form on her bust. Her clothes were wrinkled, completing her messy look.

The emotion in her eyes made him falter. The innocent adoration, or rather the need to discover more about this magnetism, was brighter than a hundred lightbulbs. It was like looking at the sun.

"I don't know," the words barely made their way from his mouth, which was curved into a small grin. "All I know is that if you can't stop me, things are going to become too involved for either of us."

"We both know I'm too weak to do such a thing," she noted, still looking at him like a dazzled angel. With that, Orihime slowly leaned down and pressed her moist lips against his forehead. He sighed into her chest, resting his heavy head on her large breasts, a region still foreign to him.

"Ulquiorra should be coming for you soon," He said, reaching up to hold her hands. His thumb smoothed over her knuckles. Back and forth, back and forth, the motions were very gentle. The tacit question hung over their heads.

"I must go, Sousuke-sama," she stood, still holding his hands as he joined her. He embraced her, warm and strong in his movements.

"I will visit you as soon as I can, Orihime."

"Take your time. I think I'm supposed to play tic-tac-toe with Grimmjow-san, bake some anchovy-white-chocolate cookies with Starrk-san, and then have a pillow fight with Ulquiorra-san."

He gave her a blank look, and she grinned. He couldn't help but sigh and offer a slight smirk at her antics. She let loose a light giggle, and he held her tighter, feeling her slender form against his.

"After you're done having fun, then, I'll visit you and teach you some boring calligraphy," he reasoned, putting his chin on her head. She laughed again, nuzzling against him. Just as he planned, the knock at the door came sooner than both of them had wanted.

"Aizen-sama, I'm here for the woman," Ulquiorra's voice was muffled through the door. Aizen ran his fingers through her hair lightly, fixing it as she aided her messed up clothes. After he finished, he moved his hands over her face skillfully, wiping away her tears and straightening her appearance. Orihime reached up and grabbed a lock of hair from his skewed brown mop and pulled it down between his eyes; its rightful location. He kissed her cheek, and then her hand. They sat once more at the tiny, circle table.

"Come in, Ulquiorra."

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_AN: OuO *nosebleed* UNF! I died. I didn't think I could write something like that. Sorry for any OOCness; this was written extremely rushed._

_I'm hoping this chapter impressed you. If this goes well and you guys want, I'll add a third part. Just winging it here, guys, so don't expect a kickass plot. I'm also totally nuts, so don't expect a lemon scene. Just more steamy scenes like that amazing piece of chocolate pie right there. C: Hot damn! Reviewers get hugs._


	3. First Night

EDIT: I added a bit of fluff to help it transition better, maybe? I honestly have no idea. If you guys notice a ripple in the flow, please let me know so I can iron out the kinks.

Also, next chapter is the last. I have so many things to write, so please be patient.

Disclaimer: I want it… I want it so badly… I need my canon HyourinHitsu…

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Orihime sat with little grace on the white couch. She had noticed Ulquiorra left immediately after dropping her off to head back to Aizen's room, and she had little doubt why.

Naturally, although he wasn't human, he had become curious about these visits between them. But, being the obedient tool that he was, the Espada wouldn't ask his master directly. He would do silent errands for him, giving the two men more time together and quietly wondering if Aizen would openly begin to tell him all about it.

It reminded her of her conversations with Tatsuki. The sweet bickering between friends that she had grown used to… her cheek twitched into a small smile. Orihime could still hear the rash voice in her mind, telling her to watch herself; boys are scary! The same voice urging her to put down the wasabi, because that doesn't go on pancakes!

What would Tatsuki say now? The orangette could see the worried face clearly, face contorted with anxiety as she gave her opinion.

What would any of her friends say now? A small pang came from the bottom of her stomach, and she held her head in her hands. Could they accept the way she was being… the way she was involved with Aizen?

Her skin crawled with her imagination; the images of her angry and horrified friends broke into her mind. What _would_ they say? But… these kinds of thoughts were hurting her so much, curling her body inward in agony. She was a traitor? That wasn't the right word. She was naïve, falling for his advances and playing into his hands even after she had promised him her heart and soul. He didn't _have_ to do this; Aizen was doing this for fun.

The woman nearly laughed as she leaned back on the bleached cushion. She herself was spending too much time with him, and it reflected on her paranoid thinking. Before him, her mind would have stopped at the first layer, giggled lightly, and moved on. But now, there were so many more dark folds she needed to overcome before she could begin to understand how to react.

Ulquiorra would be back later with her dinner, and then in the morning she might have breakfast with Aizen again. A soft, pink blush covered her cheeks as she remembered her voice calling his name with such powerful emotion. It hooked the bottom of her heart and weighed it down, almost causing her to clutch her chest with emptiness.

Although being away from him was refreshing enough, Orihime couldn't help but need to bury her face into something. She couldn't allow her eyes to start to trick her like they had the first night she went through without him. Images of him flickered through the room as she looked around corner after corner. The orangette had spent hours trying to find the shimmering hallucinations, only to exhaust herself and slump against the wall for her sleep.

Her hand tingled as she ran her fingernails over the soft skin between her pointer and thumb, tickling the thin membrane. Orihime wondered about him constantly, starting with his appearance. The spotless cloak was a no-brainer, of course he wanted to look like the mega-boss.

She imagined herself in the future, in her robot form. Her metal joints bent so she aimed a flaming kick toward the second giant robot. It jumped easily over the leg, back-flipping in the air and eyeing her metallically. The chain that hung between its big, cartoon eyes resembled the owner greatly. Mega-Boss Aizen, the last enemy you had to defeat to save Karakura Town.

Orihime grinned, scratching her arm as she thought more about the mental conquest. But quietly, deep down, she knew she still wasn't strong enough to scratch his steel exterior. The thick plates around his even harder insides would remain untouched until even after his demise.

That wasn't something she had considered before this: his defeat. Did… did she want her friends to win? To come and save her from this monochromatic hell?

The single tear tracing its way down her cheek told her she still did. After all those close moments with the devil himself, and the nearly happy memories, she wanted to go home. Orihime wanted to talk to her brother and tell him all about school. She wanted to see Tatsuki hit Chizuru. She wanted to smell her cooking again as she added red bean paste and whipped cream to her dinner.

A piece of copper hair covered her face as she looked down at her white lap. Heavy tears fell down and left their round mark on her thighs, darkening only those small spots. She didn't let herself make a sound, didn't let her face contort with anguish like she wanted to.

There was only one way to assure her secure emotional state if she ever left this place. As soon as she could, she had to distract herself from Aizen's attentions. Her heart had to grow hard to his soft whispers and angel-light touches.

She imagined them vividly, even now as she felt more alone than ever. The single fingertips that had plucked at her feelings and mapped inch after inch of her body, even they had to be cut off. The brown eyes that she once compared to a certain substitute shinigami's were now on a different dimension. Deep pools of ever-expanding knowledge and power, they were indeed. Orihime had to cease her observations before it was _too late_.

Her heart beat faster as she recalled one sensation after another, each pump of the chambers reminding her _it already was_.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

When Aizen visited her that night, the room was stuffed full with her overwhelming mixed feelings. The confusion was wrapped around her neck, tugging her head down between her knees in agony, lacing her arms around her thighs.

"Orihime," he said from the doorway, and his smooth voice drove a thousand nails into her heart. The girl knew she should reject him as soon as possible, but it was going to be hard work if he kept turning up the allure like that. She didn't have to raise her head to know he had crossed the room and now kneeled in front of her. Nor did she have to look up to imagine his sultry face, with eyes half-lidded, as he pried one of her hands up to kiss the knuckles.

He didn't ask, only stayed still in front of her and kissing the same spot on her hand over and over. With each touch of his lips, a heat-wave of pleasure rocketed through her wrist and up her arm, and she had to bite her lip to keep her composure.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

Probably because he already knew why she was being so cold and awkward. He ran a smooth thumb quickly over her fingers, twisting the hand around to examine every small part of the appendage. Aizen held the hand softly between his two larger ones, barely brushing his lips over the fingertips. She was still limp at his touch, and he allowed himself to feel up her arm, tracing around the measly muscles hiding beneath the alabaster uniform.

Thinking back to her desperate line, _"I don't want to be a pawn anymore."_ Was that even the truth? It's so much easier to abandon the game if you're a pawn than if you're a queen. Abandon wasn't quite right, though. It had to be a different tone, a different inclination.

Orihime wanted to fade away. She wanted to be left alone, to be forgotten and never bothered again by this god. Aizen's mannerisms were becoming too familiar; it was starting to scare her how close she had come to him. But, was it even the real him? Most likely, she was dealing with a parallel personality, one that fit the role he played in this particularly sick play of his. The delicious touches he had been spreading over her arm ceased, leaving his hand dangling just above her elbow.

"Orihime," the man repeated, releasing her hand to put his own on her knees. "Do you like when I love you?" Although the question was sincere, Orihime felt as if she had been backhanded. Such a stark question had shocked her back into reality. What had he meant by love? Surely… most definitely not the emotion. She knew that like everything else in Hueco Mundo, he had no real emotions. She was left confused and faced with a timed answer.

If she lied, what would he do? The dangerous spark that had kick-started her heart returned when she looked into his eyes. They were innocently rounded, and the brown irises were bright with adorable curiosity. But she knew better, and looked past the facade to see the gears in his brain churning speedily and the pieces of his plan falling into place. Her grim smile brought one of his eyebrows up.

"Yes," she whispered, but scooted away from his outstretched hand. The woman cringed, and turned her face away from his when he stood. He leaned down, almost entirely horrifying her, and seized her face between both of his powerful palms. He pressed their foreheads together, mingling their emotions and breaths in one suave movement.

"Do you want me to love you?" As the intense seconds passed, she realized his stare was hardening into a cold beam of vision. The steamy contact between them was muddying her thoughts, distracting her from her previous train of thought. But, what could she say? The way Aizen had treated her during these days and nights; was it love? No.

Love was knowing when to react to a person. That's how it was with Kurosaki-san, right? She knew her heart would race when she saw Ichigo. Orihime knew she would follow him to the ends of the earth.

But with Aizen… she had no clue. No particular intimation of how to react to him at all. He was sporadic with his effections, laying them down on her on a whim and assuming the positions of captor, enemy… _lover…_ all at the same time.

He had asked the impossible of her, and she had to answer him before he got the wrong message. Of one thing she was certain, however.

"I don't know," she said lightly, looking at him with almost glowing grey orbs. Orihime's orange hair shone in the farce moonlight, illuminating both of their faces. His nose was almost touching hers, and she swallowed when he didn't reply. He just stayed there, eyes squeezed shut and hands warm on her face. The brown tendril that split from the rest of his hair was tickling her cheek, but he remained very still as he held her there.

Before she was ready to let go, Aizen retreated a few steps, opening his blank eyes to look down at her. Any fake emotions he had been spinning around before were now gone; his face was instead very cold. Even the smug look that usually smeared itself across his handsome face was absent.

"Aize-" But a raised hand stopped both her heart and her words. Slowly, the fake smile crept back onto his face and curved the edges of his soft lips menacingly. Orihime could stop neither the shiver that shot through her spine, nor the slightly agape face she was making. Her grey eyes followed the hand as it relaxed and fell to his side. The hand that had both terrified and pleasured her, even something as inconsequential as a common body part became something to have mixed feelings about when it belonged to him.

He didn't bother saying another word as he left, and she became suddenly aware of how cold it was in her room. It was almost overpowering, how utterly dull her space had become without him there. The click of the door closing was actually a catalyst that sucked all of her emotions and heart into a black, lonely vacuum.

The invisible creatures of the floor clung to her ankles, chilling her legs and freezing her to her seat. Her arms were stiff as the couch reached out to wrap its deadly fingers around her elbows, and she felt her stomach flip in horror as the loneliness pinned her down to the white fabric. It was grinding against everything inside her, sapping her dry of any energy she could muster. Was his essence really that vital to her?

The addiction she had formed for him had been extirpated, and now she was being strangled with the symptoms of her withdrawal.

But the tiniest bit of his reiatsu was still pinging in the corner of her mind. He hadn't walked away yet, and still stood in front of her door. He was taunting her on purpose, and it was working.

Nakama? Nothing.

Rescue? Irrelevant.

She needed him. To experience everything he had to offer her and more.

Orihime coughed as she pulled her arms forward, almost dragging them to the edge of the couch to try and pull her upwards. The weight on her thighs rolled off as she hissed and mewled, kicking her feet free. The insides of her lungs burned with each squeak and screech that fought its way from her mouth.

The vicious, carnal instinct that was pulling her towards him was taking over her weak form. She admitted she was becoming an animal, and hoped on the side that she would be fluffy when she was done with the transformation. Maybe the orangette would have cute little ears and a tail as well.

Nearly tripping, she fell towards the door, stopping her descent with a steady hand on the doorknob. She twisted, fighting against the lock. The woman began to cry his name, letting it run from her mouth as easily as the tears were running down her cheeks. She was so close to him, it was beginning to burn her insides.

Every part of him, from his soft, fragrant hair to his big, strong hands to his elegant legs and firm feet… every single last bit of his body was flashing before her, and she panted and yelled his name through the door.

But when the door knob twisted, her hand froze and she fell silent. Her whole body went limp when the door slid open, barely enough to see the man on the other side.

Brown eyes clashed with her slate orbs, and his playful smile peeked through the slit of the door. A few tears dropped from her chin lazily, splashing on her chest. His chocolate eyes followed their plummet, lips ironing out to a slim, straight line. But he remained silent as he opened the door, allowing her broken form to plunge into his. Her thin arms were spread around him, with small hands feeling his coat up and down.

Her sobs were absorbed by his heated chest, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly before petting her long hair. His fingers toyed with the ends, twisting the locks around his fingers and pulling a piece up to kiss. Orihime was shuddering against him, now filled with a barrage of hiccups.

"Sssh," he cooed, resting his chin on top of her head. Her hot tears were staining his collar, but he paid no heed as he closed his eyes. His deep voice continued to shush her, and the feeling of déjà vu welling up inside her was crushed by the most important feeling she thought she could ever have.

Completion.

It was a dirty thought, sullying her mind during the hours they were apart, and exploding from joy when they were together. But it was the same feeling that had dried her tears, and the one that had her now nuzzling into him as he hummed deep in his chest.

"Sousuke-sama," she whispered, her voice still raw from her violent episode.

"Yes, Orihime?" He continued to hum around her response, encouraging her to finish her thought.

But the words were tangled in her teeth. She prodded them with her tongue, eager to spit them out and offer them to this god. His scent was making her head spin, and in combination with his warmth and her exhaustion, she felt her consciousness slipping.

"I…"

Her words fell to breaths, and her entire body went limp against him. Aizen sighed, and the first authentic smile he had felt in a long time spread his lips as he thread her arms around his neck and lifted her legs. Carrying her, he nudged open the ajar door and shuffled over to the couch.

But, looking again at the ragged cloth and feeling the low temperature in the room, he shook his head before turning back into the hallway. The low lights above them lit up her tired face, but all he could see was a sleeping angel being held by the god who was stupid enough to fall in love. With Orihime… seduction had become a double-edged sword.

Her fatigued frame in his arms, he stopped to take in the moment. The grey eyes that had shown him emotions he had long since abandoned now opened new possibilities of experimentation. The soft lips he had captured and toyed with so often now pleased him even more. His skin was buzzing with excitement whenever he thought about caressing her soft frame, enveloping the small girl in his arms and using every amount of control to follow through with the plan. She had gone along with every detail so far; the game was going nicely all thanks to her.

All thanks to Orihime. Aizen's mind was light as he continued down the hall, rubbing warm circles into her arm with his fingertips.

Tonight, she would sleep with him.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

May I say first: No, not in the sexual way. Like, him holding her and falling asleep next to her. She's under the covers and he's resting on top of them. Both of them have all of their clothes on. Nothing perverted.

EDIT: Fangirls, don't scratch my eyes out. I am one of you, after all. This is to clear some things up: When he asks, "Do you like when I love you?" He is literally referring to 'love' as a physical sensation; he's asking, "Do you like when I touch you?" This also applies to "Do you want me to love you?" He is talking about PHYSICAL INTERACTION. Not emotion. This translates to, "Do you want me to touch you?" However, it is important for this story that his outlook on love is NOT an emotion, but PHYSICAL AND MENTAL PLEASURE. He's a very twisted guy; that's why we fell in love with him, amirite? ^

Yes, I am taking requests! Always! And I love PMs, and Writing Challenges, etc. I always love reviews; I don't care if it's been one million years since I posted. I love reviews. And I love you. All of you. Every piece of every one of you all.


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